Wednesday, July 06, 2011

Spectator Camping

So, this weekend is our church’s annual family camping trip. If you’ve read my blog for just a week, you know how I feel about camping. I don’t camp. I have very, very good reasons for this. Like, I don’t want there to be the possibility that I’ll get wet when I sleep. I don’t want dirt in my food. I don’t want dirt on me. And if I have dirt on me, I don’t want to have to wear flip-flops to shower. All very reasonable reasons as far as I’m concerned.

Plus, going camping means having a lot of equipment, which we don’t have. Of course, when I say we don’t have any equipment my children don’t hesitate to remind me that we actually do have a tent. A tent that has never seen the light of day, because any time they wanted to go camping I set it up in the basement and said, “Here’s your campout!” I even let them have sleeping bags and flashlights which I thought was awfully generous.

So yes, we have a tent, but we don’t have all the other stuff you need. Like firewood or the things you cook with over fire. Or a battery-powered microwave. That stuff is not cheap, you know.

Obviously, I’m no camper. But I do love my children. So this year I told them we could spend a day at family camp. We are going up on Saturday for the day only. I feel just the tiniest bit like I’m leading them on, because I have no intention of ever spending the night there. They, though, are sure I’ll see the campground, fall in love with all things camping and sign us up to go next year.

That is the only way, kiddos...

Kids, I love you, but I am not going to sleep in a tent. If y’all can convince Dad to rent a giant RV, maybe (one that has A/C, of course). But that’s the only pickin’ way. And probably not even then.